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Show THE BRIDE OF THE CARNIVAL. On the night of the masked ball, the royal palace of Munich was a blaze of light. Every window glowed as if the interior were a mass of fire, and the brilliant rays, streaming forth upon the night, fell upon the glittering helmets, breast plates and sabres of the mounted cuirassiers, or were reflected from the bayonets of a detachment of the infantry of the line drawn up as a guard of honor in the square without. How softly beautiful were the marble statues that graced the niches, lined the corridors, and looked down from their pedestals on the grand ball-room; how oriental in their magnificence were the gorgeous draperies of velvet and satin, with fringes of gold bullion; but above all, what music streamed on the enchanted air from an orchestra composed of a hundred of the best instruments in the city. And the life, the animation of the throngs in that brilliant saloon-who shall describe it? Ernest von Steinberg, who looked for but one person in that brilliant multitude, was perfectly impenetrable. Therefore, when he found the rose-colored domino at last, he hesitated not to address her. "Good evening, fair mask." "Good evening, gallant cavalier. But how know you that I am fair?" "Were I to pronounce you the fairest in Munich, none would dispute your title." "Do you know me?" "The belle of Munich hides her face in vain," answered Ernest. "That inimitable foot and hand are her betrayers." "You may be mistaken after all." "I cannot be, and I claim the hand," said Ernest; "and will find employment for that dainty foot. The music sounds, let's away to the dance." "I believe my hand is promised already," answered the fair one, "so take it quickly, before some one disputes the prize with you." The next minute they were whirling round the vast saloon to music that might keep dancers on their feet for life. Anne leaned upon the shoulder of her partner, and he breathed into her ear words that she could not listen to without a thrill of pleasure. At the conclusion of the dance, Ernest led her into a side room, in which they found themselves quite alone. "You persist, then," said the lady, "in calling me the Baroness von Graffenberg?" "If I had doubted before, your dancing would have convinced me. The leader of the Sylphides is known by her step." "Well, you have guessed right. And now, in return for my confidence, may I request you to raise your mask?" "I can refuse you nothing," said Ernest von Steinberg. He raised his mask as he spoke, and disclosed to the astonished gaze of the Baroness the well known features of King Louis of Bavaria. "But I thought you assured us that the cavalier was plain Ernest von Steinberg," exclaims the reader. Let us explain. To give additional ?? and pleasure, and complicate the mastery of masquerade, the courtiers of Louis XIV of France had invented the following expedient. They procured fine wax likenesses of their friends, or eminent persons, and wore them under their masks. When requested to declare their identity they would raise the outer mask, and the inner was one, seen for a moment, in most cases completely deceived the spectator. It is easy to imagine what an indefinite field for mystification this contrivance afforded. Captain Ernest had a friend, a sculptor, who had a model bust of the king and from him he had procured a wax mask, beautifully colored, and so well executed as to deceive the eyes of the baroness for the moment they rested on it. Ernest, satisfied with his success replaced his black velvet visor, and continued the interview. "Yes, Baroness," whispered the disguised aid de camp, "it is Louis who stands before you-not as your king, but as your subject, your slave-the thrall of your beauty." "Ah, sire," replied the belle of Munich, "you are sporting with the sensibilities of a weak woman." "No, by heaven!" replied the false king. "I am incapable of that. Behold me at your feet and hear me swear eternal allegiance to your charms." "Rise, sire!" said the baroness, very much agitated. "We may be seen or overheard." "Long have I thought," continued the false king, "that beauty such as yours should grace a throne. But you are right," he continued hurriedly, "this is no time or place for confidence like ours. Hark! The clock is striking twelve. Will you trust to my honor and meet me at this hour to-morrow night?" "Where sire?" "In the Chinese pavilion in the garden of the palace. The wicket of the postern gate that leads to the door of the pavilion shall be left open for you." The Baroness gave him her hand. "To-morrow night at twelve," said she and glided from the room. "Oh, woman, woman, woman!" said Ernest, when alone. "False as fair! Is it for this we rank you with the angels? But tremble faithless one-your punishment shall be as bitter as the agony I suffer." And he followed the baroness into the dancing saloon. He had no sooner left the room than a masked figure stole forth from beneath a mass of crimson drapery. "The Chinese pavilion to-morrow night at twelve o'clock," said the stranger. "Bravo, bravo! Captain von Steinberg!" And he too vanished. A few minutes before twelve o'clock on the following night, Captain von Steinberg, wearing his wax mask, unlocked and entered the Chinese pavilion in the royal garden. The inside shutters of the windows were closed, so that he ventured to produce a match and light a wax taper, taking care to place a shade over it, so that the room should be very dimly lighted. After completing the arrangements, he glanced around and started on seeing the figure of a man near the table. The stranger was dressed in the uniform of an aid de camp and wore a mask upon his face. "Who are you?" demanded Ernest, advancing to the intruder. "You have anticipated a similar question." replied the mask. "But I have a right to know," said Ernest. "So have I," was the quiet answer. "Sir," said Ernest, placing his hand on the hilt of his sabre, "I wear a sword." "So do I," replied the mask, "but I reserve it for the enemies of my country." "Tell me who you are I implore you." "Ah, now you speak in a different manner. I, sir, am Captain von Steinberg at your service, aid de camp to his Majesty King Louis of Bavaria." "The deuce you are!" thought Ernest. "But, confidence for confidence," said the Imposter. Now you must tell me who you are and by what right I find you in the pavilion at this hour." "By the very best right in the world," replied Ernest, boldly. "I ?? am King Louis of Bavaria," and he lifted his outward mask, displaying the features of the king. "Pardon me, sire," said the stranger, falling on his knees "but making my rounds in the garden, I found the postern gate unlocked, and fearing treachery to your royal person, deemed it my duty to keep watch in the pavilion of which, as you Majesty is aware, I have a duplicate key." "Zounds, man! you haven't locked the postern, have you?" asked the pretended king. "No, sire; it remains as I found it." "Then, my good fellow, there is no harm done," said Ernest. "And I'll tell you a secret. I expect a lady here every instant who has accorded me a private interview. The best service you can render me-is to leave me to myself." "A hint from your royal lips is a command." said the pretended Ernest. "That your Majesty's suit may prosper is the warmest wish of your most devoted subject." The stranger vanished. Before Ernest had an opportunity to frame any hypothesis with regard to this mysterious being, the door opened cautiously and admitted the baroness. She threw herself at once at the feet of Ernest. "Rise, lady!" said the pretended monarch. "I would rather be at your feet-rise!" "Not," said the baroness, "till your Majesty pledges your royal word to pardon me in advance for whatever I may confess." "I freely pledge you that," said Ernest, aiding the lady to rise. "Know, then," said the baroness, "that I am an ungrateful woman. Your Majesty distinguished me last night, and held out hopes so brilliant that a subject might well be dazzled by your promise. I was dazzled and I heard with pleasure. But it was only a momentary weakness. In the delirium of the dance you told me that you loved me-my consent to meet you here seemed a confession of reciprocal affection; but in truth my heart is given to another I love-I love with all the fervor of my being-not a monarch; but a subject." "A rival?" said the pretended king sternly. "His name?" "Promise that you will not harm him, sire." "I make no promise in such a case as this." "Then I shall keep my secret," said the baroness, firmly. "And you will love this man-even if I command you to tear his image from your heart?" "I love him and him only," said the baroness. "In good report and evil report-in sorrow and sickness-in shame and honor. Truly I pledged him my hand-my heart went with it. I am his forever." "And he is thine, dear Anne!" said Ernest, tearing off his disguise. "Will you forgive the trial that I have subjected you to?" "Will you forgive the weakness of a moment that made me listen to temptation?" "Freely and fully," said Ernest folding the baroness in his arms. "And now, when shall we be married?" "To-night!" said a voice behind them. And there stood the King of Bavaria, but still in the uniform of an aid de camp in which he had entered the pavilion that evening and first encountered Ernest. He it was who had overheard the appointment at the masquerade. "To-night," he repealed, smiling on his astonished auditors. "The chapel is lighted up, the priests are in waiting, the wedding guests are there and the feast prepared. Louis of Bavaria waits to conduct you to the altar, and to give away the bride. And may the pleasures of this carnival be but the precursors of a life joy!" The delight of the lovers, and the surprise and pleasure of all their family, must be left to the imagination. |